Back by Ivy.E

back

bak/

noun

1. the rear surface of the human body from the shoulders to the hips.

"he lay on his back"

(Google)

back

An especially fine woman's butt.

(Urban Dictionary)

The constant struggle of being a young black woman, is being seen as a sexual object. No matter how hard you try to change the way your body looks you are always seen in one position.

On your back.

I remember a time in my Biology class during my sophomore year in high school. My classmates and I were discussing our future plans. When it was my turn to speak, I was interrupted. My classmate said,” I know what you're going to be.” Curious to what he would say I allowed him to speak.

“You're going to be a stripper,” he said.

The whole group paused due to the shock that this young black male allowed those words to come out of his own mouth!

But is he to blame?

I turn on the television and see the roles black women play. These scandalous images built an empire that's supposed to be my reality. Apparently, I'm only worth something if I show it off.

And I won't lie, I began to believe them.

That my Asset held the value of my worth. I would walk past a group of guys and I would feel their eyes burning through my skin. And don't you dare give me that “dressing appropriately” hype because my sweatpants caught on fire as well!

I struggled everyday with my self-esteem. No matter what I said to myself “they” were always louder than my own voice. I weep for my younger self because I should've fought harder for her. I should've guarded her with Iron and Steel with the intent to keep her safe. Nothing coming in and nothing coming out.

No hateful words

No Barbies allowed

No more price tags

The day I decided to walk my walk and preach my truth became MY day of emancipation!

I signed everything over to God and in exchange He gave me love, power, and a sound mind. I took them and hid them in my heart. My television no longer portrayed grotesque images. Like Latifah, I became the Queen of Badness and had them thrown out of my box! I began walking on a tightrope with my Afro puffs and my fist raised high.

I walk my truth by staying true to who I am and who I represent.

My first name carries meaning and my last name is the beginning of the next generation. My truth is loyalty, respect, and love. Without these I am BW, a basic woman, something I was not born to be.

See, I was born into a lineage of Queens.

They float as if their feet never touch the ground but they move so quickly you never know they were there. Their skin is ageless and their bodies contain a strength that cannot be duplicated. When they are silent, everything stops but when they speak the whole rooms shakes! Who they are became clear to me once I learned my truth because they are me.

And I am them.

 

Ivy E. is a Senior at Bethune-Cookman University. She is pursuing a BA Degree In Business Administration. Her hobbies are writing, dancing, music, reading, and watching natural hair tutorials. She hopes that one day her writing would inspire the future generation.